Chapter Three: Scene Of The Crime

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"Sherlock where are we going? Sherlock? SHERLOCK? DARCY?"

I can hear John's voice changing in tones as he jogs to try and keep up with us. Sherlock's mental map of London is our trust-worthy guide and soon enough we are standing outside the entrance to the Baker St. Underground. John and Sherlock whip out their Oyster cards with a magician's practice, and before I know it they're on the other side of the barriers.

"Come on Darcy, what are you waiting for?" Sherlock's voice is impatient. He clearly hasn't realised.

"I don't have an Oyster card idiot," I say, staring at him dead in the eye. His face doesn't change even after he registers that fact.

"Well just buy one," he says.

"I can't. You demanded that I run out of the apartment immediately. I didn't exactly have time to pick up my purse," I sass back. He sighs and rolls his eyes.

Sherlock looks expectantly at John who pulls out his wallet. It's pretty much empty.

"Well Mr Detective, you're gonna have to come up with a smart plan to get us out of this one." I've got one eyebrow raised and annoyance bubbling in my chest when someone walks into me.

"E-e-excuse Miss," says a young man about my age. He's bright red, but his bright cap with the Union Jack emblazed on it conceals it. A quick glance over tells me his sexuality immediately. The underwear are a total giveaway. He gives me a quick smile, before looking over to John and Sherlock, who is tapping his foot impatiently.

"Do you need some help?" He asks.

"Uh yes actually. See I'm new here and I don't have an Oyster card...and I left my purse at home."

"Oh here, let me get you one!" I protest, but he coerces me over to the ticket desk and soon enough my own Oyster card is pressed into my hand and I'm back at the gates.
"Well thank you so much..." I hesitate. He never told me his name.

"The name's Jim. And you're welcome. I'm sure I'll see you again soon," and with that, he smiles and strides out.

"HURRY UP DARCY!" Sherlock yells over the hum of the crowd.

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. I swipe my Oyster card and with a bit of trouble make it to the other side. A glance over my shoulder tells me that Jim has disappeared. Sad, he was nice.

Sherlock drags me through the Underground until we're standing in the middle of a sea of people, my hair whipping around my face from the rush of air from the train. He pulls John and I into the train, and we're going again. I catch a glance of the screen as we pass. 'NOW BOARDING - NORTHERN LINE'

The scenery blends from the harsh corners of concrete buildings to rolling green hills.

"So this is their last view would have been," John says sadly.

"No. They had already been murdered." My cold voice sounds too harsh, so I give John a sad smile afterwards to blunt the steel of it. Sherlock of course doesn't give it that much thought.

"Someone else is going to die." John blanches and his eyes go wide.

"Someone's going to DIE? We need to stop them! SHERLOCK!" he whispers urgently, urgently looking over his shoulder.

"Didn't you hear Darcy? They're already dead," he shrugs.

"And my guess is they'll be found in 3.... 2...1" I say, and sure enough a scream cuts off my last word.


"Oh my god! He's dead!" The old lady is sitting in front of us now, her face white and her hands trembling.

"Yes he is, but could you please answer my question?" Sherlock's voice is back to the inhuman machine. Thinking about it, I'm probably the only one who has ever seen his human side. And John. Sherlock wouldn't let someone share a case with him who didn't know him inside out. Back to the conversation, Darcy.

"I shook his shoulder because I just wanted to sit down. See my legs are getting old-" Sherlock cuts her off again.

"And he was dead?" The lady nods, and dabs at her eyes with the tissue clutched in her hands.

"Sherlock, I think that's enough," I say gently, putting a hand on the poor woman's shoulder.

"But I haven't finished-"

"I'll show her out now. Come with me dear," she clutches my arm. I catch Sherlock's angry glance over my shoulder, but I know he won't be angry at me for too long. There was no more information he could get from this lady.

"And if you ever need anything, don't forget to call this number here. I make the best bread in London you know!" She pushes her card into my hands and I smile warmly.

"You had mentioned that." The door closes behind her, and I start the trek back up the stairs.


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